Saturday, June 13, 2015

Haunted by a crushing fear of death, a young Victorian woman discovers the secret of eternal youth—she must surrender her life to attain it, and steal heartbeats to keep it.

In 1860 Surrey, a young woman has only one occupation: to marry. Senza Fyne is beautiful, intelligent, and lacks neither wealth nor connections. Finding a husband shouldn’t be difficult, not when she has her entire life before her. But it’s not life that preoccupies her thoughts. It’s death—and that shadowy spectre haunts her every step.

So does Mr. Knell. Heart-thumpingly attractive, obviously eligible—he’d be her perfect match if only he wasn’t so macabre. All his talk about death, all that teasing about knowing how to avoid it…

When her mother arranges a courtship with another man, Senza is desperate for escape from a dull prescripted destiny. Impulsively, she takes Knell up on his offer. He casts a spell that frees her from the cruelty of time and the threat of death—but at a steep price. In order to maintain eternal youth, she must feed on the heartbeats of others.

It’s a little bit Jane Austen, a little bit Edgar Allen Poe, and a whole lot of stealing heartbeats in order to stay young and beautiful forever. From the posh London season to the back alleys of Whitechapel, across the Channel, across the Pond, across the seas of Time…

AJ Krafton is the author of New Adult speculative fiction. Her debut The Heartbeat Thief is due out on Kindle in June 2015. Forthcoming titles include Taking' It Back & Face of the Enemy. She's a proud member of the Infinite Ink Authors. AJ also writes adult spec fic as Ash Krafton. Visit Ash at http://ashkrafton.com

Friday, June 12, 2015

Colette had known all her life that she was half human and half werewolf. She had no expectations of a life filled with love and adventure.

Everything changed on her 21st birthday. A curse casted by witches centuries ago set things in motion, things she could have never imagined. A past that Colette has no clue about has come back to steal her away.

When Hunter, her destined but very unexpected mate, arrives, she is at a complete loss. She must learn to forget an old love and how to make room for a new love.

The curse is being recast and Colette must stop it in order to save the wolves, all the while finding who she really is.

Hunter tight black pants. I could see
the contours of his strong, thick thighs. My eyes trailed up he was wearing the
gray shirt that I had stolen from him when he left.

Hunter leaned against his motorcycle. He
held bulky black helmet with an open face. When I looked up at his eyes, I saw
the smile there.

“No. No way,” I stuttered and backed
away from him. While my tone was light, a touch of fear and excitement rushed
through me.

“Yes,” Hunter moved quickly and stood in
front of me in the matter of seconds.

“This is pay back, isn’t it?”

“I thought all girls had a motorcycle
fetish? Hoping for that bad boy with a bike,” Hunter said with a half-smile. He
was enjoying this entirely too much.

“No, most girls are stupid and don’t
realize those things are death traps. And I shudder to think how many bugs will
meet their untimely demise in my mouth!”

Hunter raised his eyebrows at me and held
the helmet hovering over my head.

“You’re part wolf and you’re with me.
I’m your mate. I’d never do anything that would put you in danger.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. “Still doesn’t solve
the bug problem.”

Hunter placed the bulky helmet on my
head and moved to snap the clasp beneath my chin. I lifted my head up for him.
When I looked into his eyes, I saw the contentment in them. His beard was
trimmed. For me? How nice. I watched as
the lines in his face soften as he worked.

“If you keep looking at me like that
I’ll never finish.”

His eyes flickered up to mine and a
blush stole across my cheeks. I was paying too much attention to his lips and I
forgot everything else. It felt silly, seeing how much time I’d spent with him,
but butterflies took flight in my stomach. My nerves felt like they were on
fire.

Becca Vincenza lives in wonderful Michigan. She has a love for Skittles, rainbows, Star Wars, and reading about hot men. When she's not wearing her author hat, she's working to pay off her student loans for her recently acquired English degree.

She recently released the first book in her Rebirth Series and is set to release the second book before the beginning of summer.

Aidan Montgomery hadn’t been prepared for Amelia Bradbury to walk in and then out of his life. He also hadn’t expected to find the powerful magic hidden deep within him for the last nineteen years, but he’s embracing it — finding more control and more answers every day. Now, with the help of Amelia’s best friend, Bethany, Aidan is on a quest to understand his destiny and find Amelia.

Amelia decided to stand by her duty, which meant walking away from her first chance at love. Trapped in Cresthaven at the Queen’s mercy, she spends her days with Micah — an ally she still holds at arm’s length — struggling to manage her heartbreak while keeping her mind focused on the task at hand. As she continues to unlock the secrets of the Keeper power, Queen Julia’s true motives reveal themselves, forcing Amelia to decide, yet again, how much she’s willing to sacrifice.

Will Aidan get to Amelia before it’s too late, or will the very power that sustains them keep them apart?

It’s always fun to talk about a second book, but we never
want to spoil anything about the first one for you, so today, we have a special
treat from Stormy Smith, author of the Bound Series. Right now, BOTH Bound by
Duty and Bound by Spells are on sale for just 99 cents each on Amazon (US and
UK).

To set this up, the Bound Series is a coming of age story. A
clean, new adult, urban fantasy that has wracked up 190 5-star reviews between
both books. Bound by Duty is the story from Amelia, our main character, and
Bound by Spells alternates between Amelia and Aidan.

Right now, Bound by Duty is nominated for “Best Book
Hangover” in the UtopYA 2015 awards and Bound by Spells was endorsed by USA
Today’s Happy Ever After blog as “paranormal gold.”

Our treat, however, is an alternate POV scene from the
swoon-worthy Aidan, our main man in the Bound series. This scene happens near
the beginning of Bound by Duty and gives you a glimpse into what’s to come
without spoiling anything. Consider it a teaser of the man you’ll get more from
in Bound by Spells!

Bound by Duty – from Aidan

What in the hell am I doing here? The thought raced
through my head for the hundredth time. I scrubbed both hands over my face and
back through my hair, yanking on it a little and trying to reason with
myself.

You’re going to freak her out.

She doesn’t even know you.

‘Oh, hi, Amelia. I know you don’t know me but I’ve been
watching you the last few weeks and I think we’d get along great. No, I’m not a
creeper. Trust me.’

I groaned and dropped my head down. I was sitting under some
kind of beach pergola on a picnic table that had seen better days. If I even
took a deep breath it might crumple under me. I was hiding and I knew it. It’s
bad enough I heard Amelia and her friend talking about this party and then
psyched myself into showing up, but now I have totally chickened out. I wasn’t
interested in the party or the drunk chicks upstairs. Just her.

I don’t normally get worked up like this but she has me all
turned around. I’d been watching Amelia Bradbury since the first day of class.
I was the charmer. I knew from years of experience with foster families how to
make sure people liked me, but she never even gave me a chance. She wanted to
hide and never once even looked my way. I could see it in the way her eyes
darted all over the room without making eye contact with anyone. And in the way
she wore her hair down, trying to hide behind the long, dark strands. She sat
in the back, forcing me to the outer edges of the room so that I could keep
watching without making it obvious. When she got up she would often run into
things, but never people, clutching her backpack before hustling to the next
place.

The first time I saw her relax was by accident. I was in the
commons eating and suddenly, there she was. Her eyes lit up and her posture
straightened. She yanked the band from her wrist and flipped her head down,
coming back up with it in a ponytail. It was the first time I’d been able to
truly see her and I was captivated. Her eyes couldn’t decide what color they
wanted to be and floated between brown and green. Some people would call it
hazel but they didn’t mix so much as shift as the light hit them. She was thin
but curved. I wanted to run my hands from her shoulders to her hips just to
feel the dip and flare. I turned, anxiety flooding my system, and found the
source of her joy…another girl. I let go of a breath I hadn’t known I was
holding and couldn’t stop the laugh the erupted from my chest. Amelia strode
up, gave the blond a hug, and they immediately started talking. Then the blond
spoke and Amelia laughed. It was music to my deaf ears and something inside me
came alive. I wanted to be the one to do that. I wanted to make her laugh. For
the first time in my life I was jealous of a girl.

I was ready to call it. Being here on this picnic bench was
ridiculous and there was no way I was going to have the balls to walk up to her
now. I had completely psyched myself out of having any kind of shot at this. I was
ready to get up and head for my car when I heard someone bouncing down the
stairs. I worried first that something was wrong. Their feet pattered down so
quickly I thought they might be running. I stayed in my spot in the shadows,
but tensed my body in case I had to move quickly. Lately I had had way too much
excess energy and I’d been spending a lot of time in the gym. I could do some
damage if it came down to it. The last thing I expected was to see shoes
flipping off and long legs soaring through the air as Amelia leapt from the
last step and landed softly out into the sand. For just a moment she was
suspended mid-air and I could have sworn she was flying. When she hit the beach
she didn’t miss a beat, her feet moving her swiftly toward the water.

Her body was long and lean. A ballerina but with curves. She
was so focused on the water that it wasn’t until she was ankle deep and had
dropped her head back, a small satisfied smile pulling at her lips, that she
realized she wasn’t alone. I had barely moved, a low groan coming from the
bench underneath me. Her whole body stiffened in what I assumed was fear. I
felt like an intruder. This was going to be a great way for us to meet, surely.
But, you shouldn’t blow opportunities when they come. Or so said my last
caseworker before I turned eighteen and had been accepted into Brighton’s
community college. No sense in turning back now.

“So, you’re hiding from them, too, huh?” I was going for
charming. Like I had some kind of game. But the words felt like peanut butter
in my mouth and I was glad she couldn’t see my reddened face from where she was
standing. Amelia slowly turned toward me, her voice small as she squinted and
tried to see me better. “Do I know you?”

I felt like even more of a tool. She had no idea who I was.
She stared my way for a few more seconds and then whipped around, facing back
out into the water. I watched her chest moving quickly, her breaths coming too
fast. I slowly started to move toward her, worried she might be getting a
little too freaked out and wanting to reassure her that I wasn’t actually a
sociopath.

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” I said, trying to
keep my voice steady but soft. She turned to face me slowly and the full moon
sliced its light just perfectly to illuminate me but keep her face mostly
shadowed. She was close enough that I could see her eyes widen and roam from my
nose to my knees, without ever meeting my own. I stood up a little taller and
couldn’t stop the smirk as I realized I might have some of the same effect on
her that she had on me. She raked her gaze up and down and it wasn’t until I
tried to get her attention that her eyes finally snapped back to mine.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I waved a hand in front of her
face and said, “Hello?” Then the Amelia I knew came back in a mad rush. She
fumbled over her words, looking anywhere but at me. She tugged at the ends of
her hair and a tried to walk away, but I couldn’t let her. I wasn’t ready to
let her go yet and I needed to know her. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching
out and taking her arm. It was our first contact and I don’t know what I had
expected, but it wasn’t heat blooming under my fingertips or her heartbeat
inside my head. In milliseconds of my skin on hers she was inside me, and I
knew I’d never get her out.

“Wait. Just wait.” More quiet, controlled words. I couldn’t
let her leave. I had to keep her there. I had to keep touching her. “I’ve seen
you before. You’re Amelia, right?” Normal, Aidan. Act normal.

“Yeah,” she whispered. I had forced her to look at me and I
would swear to any judge that we wore the same expression. She felt something.
I knew she did.

“We have a couple classes together, but you always sit in
the back and never say anything.” Dammit.So suave. So charming.
You’re an idiot, Montgomery

I was instantly ashamed. I watched her reaction and I knew
it too well. She squeezed her eyes shut and her lips smashed together, holding
in the pain of not fitting in. I might be a charmer now, but I’d been sent away
by enough families to know what I had just done.

“Oh, that was dumb. I’m sorry. Anyway, I’m Aidan. Aidan
Montgomery.” I took advantage of the opportunity to trail my fingertips from
her bicep down to her wrist and then folded her hand into mine, shaking it
softly. I felt fire the whole way and judging by the widening of her eyes and
the swift intake of breath, so did she. For a second, she gripped my hand, but
as our eyes connected again and I couldn’t stop my grin, she dropped it and
without a word took off running. I couldn’t move, my hand still in front of me
and my jaw hanging open, as I watched her bound up the stairs and disappear. I
dropped onto the hard-packed sand and didn’t bother to move as the tide rose
and the salty water surrounded me.

AUTHOR BIO:
Stormy Smith calls Iowa's capital home now, but was raised in a tiny town in the Southeast corner of the state. She grew to love books honestly, having a mom that read voraciously and instilled that same love in her. She knew quickly that stories of fantasy were her favorite, and even as an adult gravitates toward paranormal stories in any form.

Writing a book had never been an aspiration, but suddenly the story was there and couldn't be stopped. When she isn't working on, or thinking about, her books, Stormy's favorite places include bar patios, live music shows, her yoga mat or anywhere she can relax with her husband or girlfriends.

If you want to stay tuned in to all of the new release news, sign up for Stormy's spam-free newsletter. It only comes out when something exciting is happening...promise! http://eepurl.com/WLlq1

Witches have been obliterated -
or so the world hopes. At 24, Roo struggles to keep her DNA-changing abilities
secret. She doesn't feel like a witch, but if she isn't, how can she manipulate
the physical world? Why does she feel the energy of all living things?

On tenuous ground, Roo keeps her
skills hidden with the help of her sexy songstress BFF and her barmaid job at
The Cauldron. Hiding in plain sight seems to be working until a mysterious
witch hunter comes to town. Roo's powers are growing and, when a witch
possesses the body of her sister, she defends her using any means possible.

Roo is exposed and attacked from
all sides. She must learn to trust others while she discovers her identity and
masters her powers to save the lives of her loved ones. She needs to convince
herself and her town that she's more than a witch.

Inspired by mythology, science
and fantasy, this fascinating debut novel is set in a brilliantly envisioned
world where life is a secret game played by gods and witches until death ...

As an author, marketer, and
artist, Lana is a triple threat! She also makes a mean chocolate cake, and has
Level 46 Creative Mojo. A fan of ‘pro-caffeinating’, Lana loves writing
mash-ups of the fantasy, sci-fi, romance, and horror genres.

An author in her own right, with
her urban fantasy novel Hunting for Witches recently released, Lana creates all
of her own cover work and illustrations, and infuses websites with her unique
stylistic talent and quirky graphic design.

Rowena thinks the Grimm’s infamous podcasts are simply another teen fad until she finds herself trapped in a land of nightmarish storybook characters. She tries desperately to flee Mezzanine and return home, but Dresdem, Mezzanine’s wicked monarch, plans to use Rowena’s access to her world to bring dark magic and absolute rule into Georgia and beyond.

But when Rowena’s dear friend Madeline falls into Dresdem’s grasp, her battle with him becomes war, and all hopes of home are temporarily thwarted. With the help of an invisible hero, a beast, and an owl, she sets out to free Madeline from a deadening sleep. But Rowena must become her own hero when she finds herself bound by the kingdom’s darkest family. She must make the ultimate choice – align herself with her enemies or live on the run forever.

The dirt shifted beside me, and the end of the
tunnel opened. The crevice felt like it plucked me up in a whirlwind. In
seconds, I landed on the ground face first on the surface of whatever lay
beyond the tunnel. It smelled like nature after a storm. When I opened my eyes,
I stared down at my mud-covered hands. The darkness that I once thought would
be my tomb was now gone, and two low hanging moons lit the forest where I found
myself. Even though I had no idea where I was, the fact that I was out of the
hole sent a surge of relief that filled my entire being. I stood up, dusted off
all the mud I could, and looked back. Strangely, there was nothing but trees.
As I moved closer to the spot where I’d most certainly came from, all I saw was
a mirror that reflected the woods. An illusion. I touched its smooth surface,
tried to find the end of it but couldn’t. Another dead-end.

Before I could figure out what to do, I heard a
voice and spun around to confront it.

“What are you doing here?” I heard a man’s
voice growl, but I couldn’t see anyone. I looked around. He sounded like he was
only a few feet from me.

“Where are you?”

“First, tell me why you’re here?”

“I don’t know why I’m here. I’m lost, I think. I was
at a party, and while walking in the woods behind the house, I fell into a
hole. Now here I am. I have no idea what happened. Where am I?”

Silence.

Right square in front of me, he appeared out of thin
air. I blinked my eyes in disbelief. He seemed to be about my age and wore his
hat cocked to one side with suspenders atop a blue button-up and brown
trousers. It reminded me of Dashielle’s costume. I guess he could read the
amazement on my face, so he answered the question that my mind was trying to
form.

“Invisibility.
That’s all.”

AUTHOR BIO:

Vanessa K. Eccles graduated Troy University with a degree in English. She currently serves as executive editor of Belle Rêve Literary Journal and is founder of the book blog YA-NASisterhood. When she’s not writing or devouring books, she enjoys the lake life with her Prince Charming and their four dogs.

Orphaned at a young age, Legs
Anderson owes her Aunt Ada everything. The stoic old lady raised her, and Ada’s
warnings about men—and the Harris boys in particular—have stuck, even after her
death. Of course, that could be because Ada stuck around, too.

…And
His Legs

Patience is not one of Jack Harris’
virtues, and he’s waited too long to start a life with the woman he’s loved
since childhood instead of them just knocking boots. Now Ada is interfering
from beyond the grave, haunting the old Victorian house she bequeathed to her
niece and reinforcing Legs’s fears of commitment.

But Jack won’t give up. No matter
what trouble may follow, the house will be renovated, Ada will learn to let go,
Legs will put her money where her mouth is… then Jack’ll put his lips
everywhere else.

Jack leaned
forward. “You talk about her like she’s still with us. She’s been gone over a
year, sweetheart.” His voice dropped an octave and his brow creased. “Don’t you
think she’d give in after all this time?”

Legs wrinkled
her nose. “No. She thinks you’re a wanderer.”

Jack tossed down
his fork. “I own a sporting goods store! I go fishing!”

He touched her
hand when she got close enough and drew little circles around her wrist bone
with a fingertip. The preschool teachers from Let’s Explore stifled sighs at
the next table. “It’s time to let go, darlin’.” His expression turned earnest.
“She raised you, I know. But I want to be with you now. It’s time to let me
in.”

“Not if it means
letting her go. I’m sorry, Jack. I just can’t do that to her.”

Jack sighed and
returned to his breakfast. “We’ll talk about this again tomorrow.”

Adele Downs writes Contemporary
Romance inside the office of her rural Pennsylvania home. She is a former
journalist, published in newspapers and magazines in the USA, UK and Caribbean.

Adele is an active member of
Romance Writers of America and her local RWA chapter where she serves as
past-president. She has written several articles for RWR magazine (Romance
Writers Report), and she has presented workshops for writers.

When Adele isn’t working on her
current project, she can be found riding in her convertible or reading a book
on the nearest beach.

Lord Fenimore Trent’s uncanny
affinity for knives and other sharp blades led to duels and murderous brawls
until he found a safe, peaceful outlet by opening a furniture shop—an
unacceptable occupation for a man of noble birth. Now Fen’s business partner
has been accused of treason. In order to root out the real traitor, he may have
to resort to the violent use of his blades once again.

Once upon a time, Andromeda
Gibbons believed in magic. That belief faded after her mother’s death and
vanished completely when Lord Fenimore, the man she loved, spurned her. Five
years later, Andromeda has molded herself into a perfect—and perfectly
unhappy—lady.

When she overhears her haughty
betrothed plotting treason, she flees into the London night—to Fen, the one man
she knows she can trust. But taking refuge with him leads to far more than
preventing treason.

Can she learn to believe in love,
magic, and the real Andromeda once again?

Setup: After learning of a treasonous plot, Andromeda
fled into the London night to get help from Lord Fen, the man she once loved.
They’re now having breakfast the next morning.

Years ago, Andromeda had
felt no need to talk when with Fen, but now it was uncomfortable, like
conversing with a stranger. Then, they’d had more in common; now they lived in
different worlds. She took a sip of coffee and ate a sausage roll. She sipped
some more coffee. She gazed around the room and finally found something to say.

“Did you carve the
figures on your looking-glass frame?” she said. As a boy, he had whittled
constantly. “They seem so…familiar somehow.”

“They should,” he said
with a sudden smile. “I carved it from my memories of the fairies and
hobgoblins back home.”

“Fairies and
hobgoblins?”

“At your father’s
estate,” he said. “Surely you remember Cuff the bedchamber hob, and Heck the
buttery spirit, and all the rest.”

“My mother told stories
about them,” Andromeda said, nostalgia filling her again. “I must say, I like
the way you’ve imagined them.”

Andromeda rolled her
eyes. “That sounds like something my mother would have said.”

“Because she saw them,
too.”

Andromeda began to be
annoyed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Fen. She made up stories based on tales she’d
been told as a child.”

Fen shook his head.
“You saw them when you were small. You saw Cuff and Heck and the others. We
both did.”

“No,” Andromeda said.
“We saw movement out of the corners of our eyes and said they were fairies, but
we were just playing games.”

Fen’s expression was
pained. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

“There’s nothing to remember,” she insisted, wolfing down
another cream puff. “As a matter of fact, that happened to me this morning. I
had the impression that one of the creatures on the looking-glass winked at me,
but of course it didn’t really do so.”

“What a pity,” Fen
said.

“What’s that supposed
to mean?”

“That you’ve forgotten.
That wink was Cuff’s way of saying good-day to you. He’s somewhere hereabouts.
He’s the only one I didn’t have to carve from memory, because he came with me
when I left home.” He glanced toward the tin cup and plate by the wall. “He ate
the bread and milk I put out, and I gave him the rest of your brandy, too.”

She couldn’t stand any
more of this. “Fen, stop this nonsense! We’re in danger from traitors and spies
who murder people, and all you can
talk about is hobgoblins.”

He went on as if she
hadn’t spoken. “I wondered why he came with me when I left, but it’s because he
enjoys human company.” He grimaced. “Your father and aunt aren’t his sort of
humans. I thought you were, and so did your mother, but evidently you’re not.”

That struck her like a
blow. “What do you mean, my mother thought I was. Was what?”

“She had a sizeable
amount of fairy blood, so she thought you must have some, too—but perhaps she
was wrong.” He paused. “I know I have some. It’s not uncommon for children to
see fairies, but I didn’t lose that when I grew up. Not only that, it’s their
magic that guides my knives and tools, and inspires me when it comes to
furniture design.”

She couldn’t bear it.
“Stop it! You’re as—as mad as my mother was.”

“She wasn’t mad,
Andromeda.” He sighed. “And whether or not you see the fairies, they’re still
here.”

She put her hands to
her ears and shut her eyes. After all the chaos of yesterday, this was too
much. When he said and did nothing, she opened her eyes again. “Why did she
discuss me with you?”

“Who else was there to
speak to? Your father and aunt, although worthy people, wouldn’t have
understood. They already found her far too strange.”

This was true—but it
was because Mama’s mind was unbalanced.

“She knew I cared for
you,” Fen said.

His eyes were kind but dispassionate;
his use of the past tense meant that he didn’t care anymore, except perhaps as
an old friend. Why couldn’t she become accustomed? Every single reminder hurt.

“You believed in them
at the time your mother died,” he said. “She gave you that heart-shaped locket,
didn’t she?” It still hung at her breast, but she resisted the urge to clasp it
in her hand.

“I was nine years old.
I believed in many foolish things then,” she retorted. Such as magic, but a
household run by her aunt was no longer vibrant with promise or belief in
anything much at all. And then, when she was seventeen, Fen had destroyed what
little belief remained. She didn’t try to keep the bitterness from her voice.
“I learned soon enough what utter nonsense it all was.”

He watched her, head
cocked to one side, as if she were some strange, incomprehensible creature. “As
a matter of interest, when did you stop believing?”

How dare he ask such a
personal question? “What business is that of yours?”

“None, I suppose.” He
shrugged and stood. “Stay away from the windows. I’ll see if my valet has found
you something to wear.” He took the last of the beignets, set it on a saucer,
and left it on the floor by the wall.

As if prying into her
business wasn’t enough, now he was mocking her. Did he seriously expect her to
believe that a hobgoblin would eat the beignet? Anger stirred and grew within
her. “If you must know, it was at the same time I gave up other foolishness,
such as believing in love!”

Fen
stared at her, his expression incredulous. He left the room, slamming the door
behind him.

By
what right was he upset? Not content with playing stupid games with her, did he
really not remember what he’d done to her five years ago?

Award-winning author Barbara
Monajem wrote her first story at eight years old about apple tree gnomes. She
published a middle-grade fantasy when her children were young, then moved on to
paranormal mysteries and Regency romances with intrepid heroines and
long-suffering heroes.

Barbara loves to cook, especially
soups, and is an avid reader. There are only two items on her bucket list: to
make asparagus pudding and succeed at knitting socks. She knows she can manage
the first but doubts she’ll ever accomplish the second.

This is not a bid for immortality
but merely the dismal truth. She lives near Atlanta, Georgia.

JA Huss is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty romances. She likes stories about family, loyalty, and extraordinary characters who struggle with basic human emotions while dealing with bigger than life problems. JA loves writing heroes who make you swoon, heroines who makes you jealous, and the perfect Happily Ever After ending.

If you're interested in getting your hands on an advanced release copy of her upcoming books, sneak peek teasers, or information on her upcoming personal appearances, you can join her newsletter list (http://eepurl.com/JVhAr) and get those details delivered right to your inbox.